Hot and Cold
by Katt9966
Summary: A series of snippets Dutchcentric of course.


Title: - Hot And Cold

Author: - Katt

Rating: -R

Warning: - Deathfic

Feedback: - Like it or loathe it let me know

Disclaimers: - I don't own any of the characters of The Shield, they all belong to Shawn Ryan and FX.

Dedicated to a rather hot Whipper J

Part 1

Bundled up in his warm winter coat, mittens, and hat, Holland felt hot despite the freezing temperatures which meant he could see his breath as it rolled out of his mouth making him think about dragons breathing smoke and fire. The first snow of the season had come early and caught everyone by surprise. Roads were blocked, airports were closed, but most importantly the schools were all closed for the day. Not that Holland didn't like kindergarten, but the unexpected vacation was exciting.

Standing in the back yard Holland looked back at the footprints he'd left in the fresh snow. Crouching down he looked at the untouched white covering, at the little stick-like tracks left by the early morning birds as they'd hopped through the snow. Standing back up he focused on one trail and followed it across the garden until he came across the tracks left by next door's cat and followed that instead pretending to be hunting a lion.

Something cold landed on his nose and tilting back his head Holland looked up at the sky. The clouds were grey and heavy, so low that Holland stretched up his hand wondering if he'd be able to touch them. Slowly at first, and then faster and faster snowflakes drifted down. Holland stood transfixed watching them materialize out of the grey above him. He remembered reading that no two flakes were alike, every one different from it's neighbour. Holding out his hand he watched as snowflakes began to settle on the blue wool of his mitten, but even squinting at them he couldn't see if they really were all different.

Flakes landed on his face and he had to blink them away from his eyelashes. They quickly melted making his cheeks and nose sting a little from their cold. As the flakes on his mitten melted the cold water soaked through the wool and his fingers began to tingle. Pulling off the wet mitten Holland gazed at his wet, red fingers.

Shivering Holland turned back to his house, and ran towards the open back door as his mom called him hoping that she would make him some hot chocolate to warm him up.

Part 2

Holland could feel his face burning in shame and humiliation even as the cold sweat from his forehead trickled down his temples to disappear into his hair. Heat consumed his entire body, burning him from the inside out and for a moment he wondered if the urban myths of spontaneous human combustion could be true.

A tearing burn of violation made him whimper into his pillow and he shivered as icy fingers traced lightly over his flesh and a whisper of arctic breeze ghosted over his ear saying things that reduced his soul to ash.

Part 3

Flopping over onto his back in the bed Dutch sighed and threw up an arm to cover his eyes. It was just too damned hot. It was too hot to move, too hot to think and definitely too hot to sleep. Lifting his head a little he reached up and flipped over his pillow wanting to bury his head in the cool side. The relief was short-lived however as the heat from his skin quickly made the cotton uncomfortably warm and the sweat from his hair made it uncomfortably damp.

Grunting in frustration Dutch sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed. All his bedroom windows were thrown open and all he wore were a pair of boxers, but there seemed to be no escape from the oppressive heat. The air was heavy and still, yet it had a humidity to it that made it feel as if he were breathing in more water than oxygen.

Just then a sudden flash of light illuminated his bedroom, a seconds clarity that tinted everything in silver and white. The low rumble that quickly followed sounded menacing in its promise of natural violence. A cool breeze finally stirred the curtains and Dutch turned his face towards it almost unconsciously seeking out the relief it brought.

Getting to his feet he made it to his back door just in time to see the sky lit up by another flash that seemed to make the clouds glow from within. The crack of thunder that followed was accompanied by another sound – the sound of rain. It was as if the heavens opened and rain began to fall, and Dutch was sure he could hear the hiss as it hit the hot concrete.

Without thinking, just craving an escape from the heat, Dutch stepped outside and turned his face up into the deluge feeling the rain running down his body washing away the heat, the sweat, the lethargy.

He stayed like that for a while letting the cool rain invigorate him.

Part 4

The sudden blow took Dutch by surprise. In fact he'd seen Claudette turn towards him with a questioning look on her face at the surprised little grunt that had escaped his mouth. Then it had burnt. Fire coursing through his stomach consuming everything in its path. The force of it had knocked him off his feet and had left him stunned staring up at the sky listening to the sounds of explosions that seemed to have erupted all around him.

He'd tried to move, but that had just made the burning in his guts flare up even stronger, he felt as if an inferno were consuming him. He'd cried out unable to keep his distress inside his bloody and bitten lips any longer. Eventually his throat burned as his voice gave out and the hot tears on his face finally dried up.

The fire had gone replaced by ice.

The cold had started in his fingers and toes creeping up his arms and legs, hardly noticeable against the fire inside him at first. Then the fire had burnt itself out and he'd begun to shiver. Ice water filled his veins and he couldn't stop his teeth from chattering. Rapidly numbing fingers barely registered the moisture against them, but when they did and he slowly raised his hand up to his face it had taken his sluggish brain a few moments to realise the red that covered them was his blood.

The explosions of gunfire had lessened; just popping noises every now and then that he barely heard. Even the voices calling out to him telling him that help was coming, begging him to hold on were harder and harder to hear. A buzzing noise filled his ears and Dutch felt as if his were lying in the snow.

Becoming confused Dutch began to think about wet mittens and lion tracks in a snowy garden, of seeing dragon's breath and clouds as full and heavy as a goose feather comforter. As his eyes slid shut he was sure he could feel snowflakes on his eyelashes and smell hot chocolate in the air.


End file.
